


It's Toys and Clothes and Backpacks

by aalikane



Series: Every Other Weekend [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Divorce, Illness, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-13
Updated: 2011-11-13
Packaged: 2017-10-26 01:08:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/276882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aalikane/pseuds/aalikane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Kurt and Blaine get divorced, Kurt gets custody. Blaine is left with only every other weekend for visitation.  What will happen when these two meet for those fifteen minutes every other Friday to swap kids and details about their children's lives? Do lingering feelings return to the surface to cause continuing heartbreak for both of them, or will they put it all in the past and focus on their children when one of them gets sick.</p><p>Companion piece for "I Miss Everything, I Used to Have with Him"</p><p>Title and Series Based on the song "Every Other Weekend" by Reba McEntire and Kenny Chesney.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Toys and Clothes and Backpacks

Everyone was shocked when we announced it. I’m not surprised. All throughout high school and college our friends kept telling us, that we were the couple that was going to make it. That we were the ones who were going to grow old together and live happily ever after. I was naive enough to believe it. But fairy tales don’t exist. Happily ever afters only come true in Elizabeth’s story books.

  
It had been about a year ago that Blaine and I got divorced. It wasn’t a pretty sight.  We tried to keep it from affecting Toronto and Elizabeth as much as possible, but we knew they could hear us arguing late at night. It affected Toronto at school, and Elizabeth kept on breaking down at day care.  We knew we were hurting our children, but we also knew we were hurting each other. I don’t even really remember why we were fighting so much. It’s all a haze, a dream. He started to regret being married to me, and I started to regret being married to him. However the day that I received my finalized divorced papers, well it hit me for the first time that Blaine and I were truly not together anymore.

He wasn’t going to be there to help me get the kids dressed and ready in the morning for school.  He wasn’t going to be there to help me fix them dinner, or help them do their homework.  He wasn’t going to sit beside me on the sofa as we watched them play with their toys on the living room floor.  He wasn’t going to lie beside me at night, holding me like he used to. I hadn’t cried all throughout the divorce proceedings, but that day in the comfort of our-- my bedroom, I broke down and cried.  Cried until I didn’t have any tears left.

It was his weekend to have the kids and I had never felt so alone before. What was a man to do? When he had no one around to help him when he’s down?   I did the only thing I could think of, and laid down on the side of the bed that Blaine used to sleep and curled up against a pillow that still smelled faintly of him.

I cried myself to sleep that night.

But today was different. Today I was stronger than I was back then. I could hold my head up high, as I took Elizabeth and Toronto to the school’s parking lot, where Blaine and I would see each other for 15 minutes, as we exchanged hellos, goodbyes and our two kids. As I pull up, I see him already waiting; his car parked, and him leaning up against the hood. He’s never looked so good. Why did I let him get away? Rachel and Mercedes have both told me on numerous occasions that I was an idiot for letting him leave, and I should have listened to them.

All I want to do is fling myself into his arms and beg him to take me back, but I know that’s not going to do any good. He brought up the divorce for a reason. He suggested it for a reason, and there’s no way he’s going to take me back. Not to mention that there are two children, with very large ears sitting in the row of seats behind me, and doing anything that would give them false hope would hurt them even more than our divorce already had. So I steadied and braced myself for the coming pain and heartbreak.

“C’mon kids, it’s time to go see Daddy.” I tell them.  I get out of the car, and open their doors. They hop out and run into his arms. The shrieks of ‘Daddy!’ fill the air and it simultaneously warms and breaks my heart seeing the three of them in a group hug that I so desperately wish I could be a part of.

“Hey kiddoes.” He says kissing them both on the head. “I’ve missed you both so much. But you know what, I’ve got a surprise in the car for you, go check it out!” They rush into the car and I shake my head. Both of them forgot their backpacks which held their clothes and toys that they’d need for their weekend.

“Hey Kurt...” He trails off.

“Hello Blaine.” I smile. As I get their backpacks out of my car, I remember to tell him that Elizabeth wasn’t feeling too well. “Umm Elizabeth has had a stomachache all day so try and keep her resting and make sure she drinks plenty of fluids.”

“I know how to take care of my own daughter, Kurt.” That comment, that one comment hits me like a knife. Because Elizabeth is his daughter, biologically. When we went for surrogacy, we decided the first one would be mine, and the second would be his.  But when we were getting the divorce we knew we couldn’t keep them separated. Blaine worked a lot more than I did, being a lawyer, so I got custody of both of them. I knew it hurt him that he wasn’t able to see his children more than every other weekend, but he worked nights and neither of us felt comfortable with babysitters more than every so often.

“I know you do, Blaine.” I say softly, sorry that I even tried to remind him how to take care of her.

“Look, we’re gonna head on out of here.” I nod.

“Okay.”

“Kids, come say goodbye to Papa.” Blaine called and they both came out of the car, holding new toys. Elizabeth a stuffed bunny rabbit and Toronto a new action figure. I lean down and hug them both.

“Be good for Daddy now, you two. I love you.” They nod and then rush off back into Blaine’s car unaware of how much it hurts me to see them go every other week. I look at Blaine, and he looks at me. I swallow the lump rising in my throat and I simply say “take care of them.” He nods without even saying goodbye and turns to leave.

I sit in my car and watch as Blaine pulls out of the parking lot; that car holding the three biggest pieces of my heart. I don’t know why I let myself fall into this state every other Friday when I see him, but I do. I know nothing will ever happen between us again, but for some reason I always have hope. A single tear escapes my eye, and I can’t help it. I let it run down my face not even attempting to stop it. I sat in that parking lot, releasing every pent up emotion that I’ve held in since the night I received our divorce papers.

 

* * *

 

  
It takes me a good hour to return home, even though I only live 10 minutes away from the parking lot.  Sitting in an elementary school parking lot crying, brings back bittersweet memories of times past. Sitting in his car after my junior prom, him holding me as I stared down at my tiara, crying that my peers could be so cruel. Saying goodbye the morning that I had to go to New York for college, while leaving Blaine at McKinley for his Senior year. I couldn’t help it. I felt as if things were never going to be okay again, and what was I to do? The love of my life didn’t love me back anymore.  I would only ever get to see him for a few minutes every other Friday and that’s not nearly enough. I wish… I wish things didn’t end up this way.

When I get home, it’s too quiet. Usually when I get home from work, the kids would rush in from the car, and start making copious amounts of noise. Screaming and yelling, turning the TV on real loud and it always made me smile. But for the days that they spent with him, it was always too quiet. I turned the TV on, to try to drown out some of the quiet, but it didn’t work. It never works. I can still hear the silence coming from their rooms. I can still hear the calm that reverberates from what used to be Blaine’s and my office; now just mine.

  
I don’t usually ask Mercedes to come over every weekend that they’re with him, but tonight, it was all too much. I was feeling forlorn, and I needed some companionship. As I picked up my phone, I quickly found her number in my contacts and pressed send.

After a few rings, she picked up.  “Mercedes,” I hiccupped. “Can you come over tonight?”  I ask trying not to break down before she even got here, but I didn’t know how long I was going to last.

  
“Oh Kurt, I’ll be there as soon as possible. I’m just leaving work. I’ll be there soon, hold on baby.” She says, and I take a deep breath.

  
Every so often she tells me that I should start dating again. That it’s been long enough since the divorce to get back on the saddle. But I really have never been on the saddle to begin with. Blaine was my first, my only. How can I get back to doing something, which I never did before? I sometimes wish we had a temporary breakup when I first went to college, like he suggested but I stood strong; I told him that I didn’t want to, because we were strong enough to withstand anything life threw at us.

  
Apparently not.

Maybe if I had gotten to date other people in college, and been able to see what it was like it wouldn’t feel like such a daunting task now. Both Rachel and Mercedes have told me that the only way to get over him, and to get passed him is to date someone else, a rebound guy and get passed the hurt and pain of the divorce.  But that seems so heartless, to both me, the guy I’d be using, and to Blaine. Would it be that easy to get over the one person I’ve loved for over 25 years? Could it be that easy? They say that it takes about half the time that you were with the person to get over them. But I don’t think I can go another 13 years feeling like this. I don’t think I could put myself through it.

  
Around 6:30, there’s a rap on my door, and I open it, to shockingly see both Mercedes and Rachel standing before me, arms filled with bottles of wine, tubs of ice cream, and rolls of cookie dough. I laugh when I see what they seemingly have planned, because as much as it works temporarily, I know I’ll be sorry for it later.

“Come on in, guys.”  I said, opening my home to them. They’ve been over enough times to know the procedure for one of these nights.  Mercedes steered me towards the couch, while Rachel grabbed a few wine glasses and spoons and then we all congregated on the couch.

  
“So Boo, what happened today? What’s gotten you so upset?” I swallow a sip of the wine Rachel just poured and look down into the glass.

“It’s been a year since the divorce was final.” I tell them softly, and they both let out silent ‘ohs’ that tell me that they didn’t remember. Not that I would expect them to, they have more important things on their mind than remembering the date that I had the worst breakdown in my entire life; and that includes the day David forcibly kissed me in the locker room, the night of prom, and the night of Blaine’s graduation from high school when Blaine’s parents said they didn’t approve of me.

“Sweetie, you can’t keep dwelling on this.” Rachel tells me, and I know she’s right.

“How do you focus on the future, when you have reminders of the past staring you in the face every day? Calling you Papa, and asking for your help? When I look into her eyes and see him?” I ask them, and they both look at each other and I can tell that neither of them knows what to say.

“We get that you’re hurting, but it’s been a year. You need to buck up Kurt.”

“Easy for you to say Rachel. How many times did you and Finn get together and break up before you got married?” I ask bitterly, knowing the exact answer.  “You had breakups with him down to an exact science, I’m sorry that I don’t have that luxury.”

“That’s not fair, Kurt. You can’t compare mine and Finn’s relationship with yours and Blaine’s. Didn’t we all learn that the hard way in high school?” Rachel pointed out and Mercedes nodded her agreement.  I guess it’s true. During my senior year Finn was extremely jealous of Blaine’s and my relationship, but apparently his was the one to last, not mine. He had no reason to be jealous, I did.

“I love you Kurt, you know I do, but you can’t keep beating yourself up over this. You need to get over him, and you need to get over him fast.” Mercedes tells me matter of factly, and I nod as I take another sip of wine.

It’s right then that my phone rings.

 _You make me feel_   
_Like I’m living a_   
_Teenage Dream…_

“It’s Blaine…” I say, starting to panic. I go to grab my phone, but I can’t find it. It’s not where I left it.

“You kept his ringtone as Teenage Dream?” Rachel asked, here tone somewhere between amusement and outrage.

“He hasn’t called my cell in over a year. I haven’t thought about it!” I yell at her. I keep searching for my phone, and finally found it underneath the sofa cushions. I look down; it still shows a picture of us back before either Toronto or Elizabeth was born. When we were still in love and never fought or argued.

“Don’t answer it, Kurt.” Rachel tells me, but I shake it off.

“What if it’s about the kids?” I counter, and she gives in. I press receive and I shakily say “Hello?”

“Oh God, Kurt. It’s Elizabeth.” He says, and before he says anything else I’m running for the kitchen without even realizing it. “She kept complaining about her stomach, and when I checked her belly, she had a giant bruise. She keeps crying out in pain and she keeps asking for you. I’m taking her to the emergency room now, but can you meet us there?” He says it all very rushed, but I’m already grabbing my keys off the hook on the wall, and slipping my shoes on.

“Which hospital?”

“Mt. Sinai.” Blaine says.

“I’m on my way.” I tell him, and he breathes a sigh of relief. “Put Elizabeth on the phone for a minute?” I ask, and he does as I ask.

“Papa?” She asks, and the sound of her voice makes me melt. She sounds like she’s in so much pain, like she’s been crying for the past few hours.

“Oh Sweetie. I’m on my way. Let Daddy hold you, okay?”

“I want you Papa!” She cries out, and it breaks my heart once again.

“I know you do, Sweetie. I’m on my way.  You need to be brave, okay?” She sniffles.

“Okay Papa.”

“Love you Sweetie.”

“Love you too Papa.”  After a second, Blaine comes back on the phone.

“Get there as soon as you can, Kurt.” Blaine says and I take a deep breath.

“I will. Take care of her.” We hang up and I walk back into the living room to tell Rachel and Mercedes what happened.  “Change of plans. Blaine has to rush Elizabeth to the hospital.” The shock on their faces tells me that this was the farthest thing from their mind when my phone rang a few minutes ago. “I’m going to go. Thanks for tonight, but I can’t have a girls’ night when my daughter is in the hospital.” I tell them before turning around. “Lock up when you leave?” I ask, before starting to walk out.

“Do you want us to go with you, Kurt?” Rachel asked, and I shake my head.

“No, this is something that I need to handle, with Blaine.” They nod.

“Keep us posted.” Mercedes said, and I nod before I’m out the door. I didn’t even stop to think what the stomachache and the giant bruise Blaine described might mean.

 

* * *

  
I’m at the hospital’s emergency room within 10 minutes, and Blaine, Toronto and Elizabeth are nowhere in sight. I run up to the desk where a woman sat, looking entirely too bored for an Emergency room. “Elizabeth Hummel-Anderson, where is she?” I ask, and she looks up at me skeptically.

 

“I’m sorry sir, but only parents are allowed back there with patients right now.” She tells me and I narrow my eyes down at her.

“I’m her father! Now tell me where she is.”

“Her father is already back there, Sir.”

“I know her father is back there, her _other_ father is back there. But I’m also one of her fathers, and I demand to know where she is.”  She sighs.

“Do you have identification, Sir?” I grab my wallet out of my pocket, ready to cut her with said identification, before Blaine walks out from the back room.

“Kurt?” He asks, and I turn around and rush over to him.

“How is she? Where is she?” I ask frantically, and he puts his hands on my shoulders, an act that has always calmed me down, especially when he rubs them like he starts to do right now.

“She’s going to be fine.”

“Going to be, that doesn’t sound like she’s fine now, Blaine!” I tell him, as he leads me towards a room that I hear Elizabeth crying, and Toronto trying to cheer her up.

“She has appendicitis. They’re going to bring her back for surgery within the next 10 minutes. I was going to try and hold it off until you got here.” He tells me and I breathe a sigh of relief. Appendicitis, as dangerous as it was if it wasn’t caught, it’s been caught and she should be fine.  I rush into the room, and force a smile onto my face.

  
“Hello…” I try to keep my voice upbeat, hoping to keep my daughter from being too scared.  “Elizabeth, how’re you feeling?” I ask, sitting on the side of the bed she was in, clutching her stomach.

“It hurts Papa, why does it hurt?” I close my eyes, because hearing her ask such a simple question, a question that I can’t answer messes with my heart in more ways than I can possibly imagine.

“I don’t know Sweetie, but I know the doctors are going to do whatever they can to make sure it stops.”

“I want it to stop now!” She screams, and I pull her into my arms. She clings to me.

“I know Sweetie, I know.” I whisper into her hair. I rub her back, as she continues to cry. A few minutes later an orderly comes in, ready to take her back to the OR. “Can I go with her?” I ask, knowing that she’s going to be too scared if she’s alone. He nods.

“Just until she’s put under.” I smile my thanks, and tell her that pretty soon she’ll be out of pain, and will no longer feel so horrible.

“How do you know, Papa?” She asks, and I smile.

“Because I’ve had the same thing happen to me.” I tell her conspiratorially. She looks up at me wide-eyed.

“You have?” I nod my head.

“A long time ago. We’re going to go into another room, you’re going to go to sleep, and when you wake up you’re going to be as good as new.” She smiles.

“Really?” I nod.

“Really.” She squeals and it’s nice to see that even while in pain, she’s the same little girl that I’ve seen grown up for the past 5 years.

Once Elizabeth is in the operating room, Blaine, Toronto and I return to the waiting room, where we all sit together. Blaine and I next to each other, with Toronto on my lap. After a few minutes, Blaine gets up and goes to get something for all of us to eat. They hadn’t yet had dinner yet, and Toronto was getting hungry. As Toronto and I sat there for a few minutes, he speaks up.

“Papa?”

“Yea Buddy?”

“How come you and Daddy aren’t fighting right now?” That question throws me for a loop. “You two used to always fight whenever you were around each other.  Now you’ve been around each other for hours now, and nothing.” I never realized how perceptive my son was, until this moment.

“Well, your sister is sick. You’ll find that parents will always put their kids first. You and Elizabeth will always come first, to both of us. The problems between me and your Daddy will never get in the way of that.” I tell him.

“But why do you have problems, anyway?” He tries again, and I sigh.

“Toronto, we’ve been through this. We’ve just… grown apart.”

“Do you not love him anymore, Papa?” I close my eyes and think of what I could possibly say to explain the situation to a 10 year old, for the umpteenth time.

“Of course I still love him, Toronto. A part of me will always love him. But we just can’t live together anymore.” I tell him, and I think that he understands that answer.  “When we lived together, we were fighting all the time, remember?” He nods. “We divorced so that wouldn’t happen anymore. So we wouldn’t put you and Elizabeth through all the fights anymore. It would make everyone happier in the long run.”

“But if it’s supposed to make everyone happier, then why don’t either of you seem happy?”

“What do you mean?” I ask him, and he just shrugs.

“You always put on a bright smile for us, but I can tell you’re not as happy as you used to be, before all the fights.  And Daddy? Sometimes I hear him cry at night when we stay at his home.”

“You shouldn’t be listening into your father’s bedroom, Toronto.” I scold him, because I have no clue how to react when your 10 year old son tells you that his father, your ex-husband cries himself to sleep at night sometimes as well.

“My room is right next to his! I can’t help it!” He tries to reason it out, and I smile.

“People cry for any number of reasons, Toronto.”  I tell him, but he shakes his head.

“When he does, he’s always saying your name, Papa.”  I sit quietly and stare at the ground, unsure of what to tell my son.  I can’t help but be curious as to why Blaine says my name while he’s crying in his sleep, but I shake it off, intent on not thinking about it while I’m sitting in the hospital.

  
A few minutes later, Blaine returns with a few to-go trays from the Hospital Cafeteria. It’s not the greatest food, but it’s going to have to do for the day. “Here we go. Chicken tenders and fries for Toronto.” I glare at him, because he knows how much I hate it when he gives Toronto fried food, especially two servings in one meal. But he just gives me a glare right back, probably as if to say ‘his sister is in surgery, he’s spending the evening at a hospital; let him eat what he wants.’ I relent, and let it go for now. “A grilled chicken salad with raspberry vinaigrette dressing for Kurt.” I smile, and thank him. I’m touched that he remembers what my favorite salad is, but then again we were together for over 25 years, so it’d be hard to forget after 1 year. “And a cheeseburger for me.”

  
“You realize that’s even unhealthier than what you gave your son.” I point out, and he just shrugs.

”It’s a special occasion.”

“You’re going to give yourself a heart attack.”

“I’m shocked that you care enough to point that out.” He argues, and my jaw drops.

“Of course I care, Blaine!” I tell him, and for a brief moment I think I see a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“You think I want my children going through what I did when my father had a heart attack? I think not.”  And there it is the glimmer is gone.

“So it’s all about the children?”

“Of course it’s all about the children!” I roll my eyes. “What did you think it was about?”

“I don’t know, forget it.” He says, but I can’t forget it. I drop it, but I can’t forget it. Not after the conversation I just had with Toronto.

“Why do you two have to argue all the time?” Toronto asks. “Always about stupid things, that don’t mean anything!” He yells. “Who cares about a cheeseburger?  You were doing so good, not arguing! And now you’re back to the way things were when you were married. Why can’t you both grow up?” He yells, before getting up and running out of the Emergency Room.

“Toronto, get back here!” I yell, before pushing my salad to the table, and running after him, but he’s quicker than both Blaine and I are. Blaine is on my heels but neither of us can tell where he went.

“Where’d he go?” Blaine asked, as we rounded the corner that Toronto flew around.

“I don’t know Blaine; I wasn’t expecting him to run off.” I said looking down one hallway as Blaine looked down another. “You go that way, I’ll go this way. Meet back here in 10 minutes, if we haven’t found him by then, we’ll tell the hospital staff.”

“Agreed.” And off we were, to find our son who was getting himself lost in the hospital. As I rushed through the hospital though, I heard sobbing coming from an empty room. I would recognize that sob anywhere. I smiled.

“Toronto?” I said, peaking into the room, and finding him curled up against a chair in the corner of the room. “Oh honey, why are you crying?” I ask, walking over to the chair, kneeling before him.

“You told me earlier that you and Daddy weren’t fighting because me and Elizabeth came first. But you still fought. Over a cheeseburger!” He sobbed out. I almost cried right then too.

“I know sweetie, and I’m so sorry. We shouldn’t have argued in front of you, we know we shouldn’t have. But that was no reason to run off on us.” I said, pulling him into a hug. “You scared us.”

“Good.” I am taken aback for a moment.

“What do you mean?”

“Both you and Daddy are so alike. You both love me and Elizabeth, but at the same time, you’re both so… so stupid!” I yell, and I stand up tall.

“Toronto Hummel-Anderson, you are never to speak to me that way again, do you understand?”

“But you are, Papa! You and Daddy both love each other, the same as you used to! But neither of you can see it! You love each other, and you refuse to be together. How is that not stupid?” I take a deep breath, and count backwards from 10, trying not to get my temper up.

“Toronto, what happens between me and your father, is between us. While it does concern you and your wellbeing, you are not to interfere in it, do you understand?” He shakes his head.

“No. Why can’t I interfere when I know it’s for the better?”

“Because you don’t know what’s for the better, Toronto. Your father and I got a divorce for many reasons. Yes, I still love him, and I probably always will. But that doesn’t mean that we work together, or that we can be together as husbands should.” I grab his hand and pull him off the chair.

“Why not?” He asked meekly.

“Sweetie, when you get older you’ll understand this better, but for now you just have to know that some people don’t want to be with the ones they’ve loved, while others desperately wish that none of the bad stuff ever happened.  But it did happen, Toronto. There’s no fixing it. Now c’mon. Your Daddy is probably worried sick. We’re going to go back to the waiting room, and wait for your sister to get out of surgery, and you are going to apologize to your father for running off. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.” I start to pull him towards the room, when Blaine walks into the room. He looks as if he’s been crying.

“Blaine, what’s wrong?”

“Do you mean that, Kurt?” I look up and see that his eyes are glistening with the unshed tears.

“What?”

“That you’ll still love me?” He asks, and I look away, unsure of how to answer that question.

“You heard that, huh?” I said, looking down at my shoes. “Look Blaine, I—“

“Don’t… just tell me. Did you mean it?” I swallow the lump building in my throat, and nod my head.

“I do, but Blaine we both agreed…”

“I love you too.” He whispered. My head pops up as if it were on a spring.

“What?” He walks closer to me, and grabs one of my hands and pulls it up to his heart.

“I’ve never been able to think about our divorce without crying.” He whispers and now tears are threatening to spill from my eyes.

“Then why did you…” He gives a pathetic little shrug, as if he doesn’t know what to say.

“We were fighting, I thought you… I thought you’d be happier… away from me.” He whispered.

“Blaine…” I said shakily, as I placed my hand upon his cheek. “The only reason I agreed to the divorce, was because you wanted it. I never even would have suggested it. I loved you, and still love you so much.” There was nothing left to say. Before I knew it, our lips were pressed together in an old dance that we knew so well. My arms slide around his neck, while his arms slide around my waist. We fit perfectly together, like two puzzle pieces lost in the cacophony of life.

We pulled apart a few moments later, both fully flushed and smiling for the first time in months. “I’ve missed that.” He says, and I grin.

“So have I.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Both pieces have the same word count. Freaky and unplanned.


End file.
